


Rain

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Series: tactile empathy [8]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Dissociation, Fluff, Gen, Meditation, Other, Panic Attacks, Post 87
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21691525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: “I left. Look what good it did me.”
Relationships: Caleb Widogast & Yasha, The Mighty Nien & Caleb Widogast
Series: tactile empathy [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1213122
Comments: 18
Kudos: 210





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> prolonged aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Even though they're given several resplendent rooms, they all crowd in Caleb's bathroom. 

The only room with no windows. It has a bathtub that easily fits all of them, even with all of the blankets they tugged into it, even with Yasha back, and they all stare at Caleb while he draws his sigils for the dome. As soon as it's up, a little bit above them, what with the tub being recessed into the floor, everyone piles in. 

Operation Babysit Caleb started about three seconds after Trent took a step in his direction, but it was only vocalized when they were alone. 

He's in the middle, curled into a ball in a way that his knees hurt and it feels like his arm is twisting out of it's socket but he's comfortable. Frumpkin is in a ball at his chest, purring away. Nott is bent awkwardly over his knees and Caduceus takes up most of his back. They fractal out from there, Fjord near Caduceus and Jester near Nott. Beau and Yasha are the furthest away, but Yasha keeps her sword up and Beau talks about plan after plan after plan. 

They all seem far away, Fjord's additions and Jester and Nott's excitement barely even registered over Beau's consistent hum. Caduceus nods now and again, that Caleb can feel. The drag of soft fur over his skin, still sweating even now. 

Nott rubs his legs, claws scraping against him every now and again and he doesn't mind. 

It's centering. 

They're centering. 

Kind of.

In the middle of the night he debates crawling out of the pile of bodies and just running, maybe to Essek, maybe to Yussa, maybe to crawl into Archmage's Bane and rot there. He's so scared he can barely breath. His chest is tight and it feels like his heart might just rupture.

“Close your eyes.” The celestial is almost foreign, shocking and seeming out of no where until he cranes his head where Yasha sits against the dome. 

“I should leave.” His own accent is heavy, his celestial rusty in his mouth, the words come slow. He's very tired- maybe he slurs 'leave' at the end because he hears Yasha sigh. 

“Leaving won't solve anything.” She says. “I left. Look what good it did me.” And then he feels guilty all over, tremors in his legs and arms that make Caduceus, even asleep as he is, wrap his arm tighter around Caleb's midsection. 

“I'm sorry.” He says, and his throat burns. 

“You'll survive this. Just like everything else.” She swallows. They're quiet for a moment, just Fjord's slight snoring as the only sound between them. “You think I don't want to run too?” 

“We could go together.” He says, too quickly now. “Retire on the coast.” He means it as a joke but no one's heart is in it. 

“It would hurt them.” She nods her head at the rest of the group. “It always hurt Mollymauk when I left. It would hurt more now.” 

“I know.” It's in common now, and he frowns. “I don't really want to- I just- they would be safer, with out me. You would be safer with out me.” 

“You're not as smart as you think you are, Caleb.” Still in celestial, still light and airy and melodious. “Close your eyes.” 

“What-” 

“Close your eyes. I'll teach you something.” He does, because it's easier than arguing. Even if he still wants to bolt, it's easier than arguing. “Can you imagine an empty field?” When he nods she keeps going. “Overcast, clouds so heavy they brush along your skin when you walk?” 

“Yes.” It's barely a whisper.

“Feel the moisture? The electricity?” He does- it clings to him, makes his teeth itch. “The entire sky is here for you.” 

“That's a lot of pressure.” That does get a laugh, short and kind. 

“This will pass. Like all storms do. Let the rain pass.” 

He stands alone in that field, and the rain is cold, pressing down hard on his skin. 

“I don't have a god here.” 

“You don't need to. You don't need anyone but time.” 

He opens his eyes and in the dim room, he thinks maybe Yasha's eyes are glowing. Or maybe the stress has finally pushed him past the point of no return. 

“I don't know if I”m patient.” Not about this. 

Not about Trent. 

“Then I can be patient for you. I love the rain.” A smile quirks his lips for a moment. The first one in hours, maybe. “And when it's over we can retire on a beach. And I'll give you another shave.” 

He reaches up and runs a hand over his face. 

“I could probably use one by now.” 

“I wasn't going to say anything.” But her voice is kind.

It's not easy to close his eyes and think of the storm, but it's easier.

Easier than it was.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always very appreciated
> 
> find me on[ tumblr ](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/licotain)


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